


Haunt Me, Baby

by StardustSprinkler



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: BeetleLyds, F/M, He Adores Her, Human!Beej AU, I just wanna see a high-as-a-kite Beetlejuice fall for a Victorian ghostly Lydia, Live Maitlands, Look I'm a simple woman, She tolerates him, SpookyLyds AU, StonerBeej, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustSprinkler/pseuds/StardustSprinkler
Summary: A free house and hot, dead roommate sounds good to Beej.100% inspired by Mocamadrigal's Human!Beej AU on tumblr
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 17
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% inspired by Mocamadrigal's Human!Beej AU from tumblr, check it out! https://mocamadrigal.tumblr.com/post/620050159222587392/my-own-musical-reverse-au-bj-is-high-on

BJ stood with a suitcase, a backpack, and the deed to his “new” house, staring up at the decrepit old building from the end of the walk-up.

_Just my fuckin’ luck._

When your parents pay for so many stints in rehab they loose count and you hit 26 without havin’ held down a job for longer than three months, you kinda get labeled the black sheep of the family. The already demanding, affluent, famous family that it was just his shit luck to be in the middle of. And he was just the irredeemable disappointment. The perpetually high, under-achieving, stoner asshat.

_Not that they were wrong._

It’d been three years since the whole family cut him out. No visits, calls, texts, anything. Until a month ago, when his parents’ car veered off a cliff in the Italian countryside.

_Pair of them were so fuckin’ extra, of course that wild shit is how they went. Splat. Gone in an instant, but they’d be in newspapers for months._

Their will reflected the understood status of the kids. Everyone got their share of the wealth, depending on how tall they stood in the eyes of their father. So here was BJ, with everything he owned in those bags and on that paper. The deed to an old Victorian house that nobody’d used in ages. As forgotten and ostracized as he was.

It’d been built in 1844 apparently, a beauty in its day with fish-scale shingles, stained glass accents, portico balustrades, and the signature witch’s hat turret sitting atop a single corner tower. But this was 2020, and now the very walls themselves seemed to sag. Paint was peeling from the carved panels, stairs cracked, posts fallen over, shingles shed, a window or two smashed. It looked as shitty as he felt.

 _Poetic or sum shit._ He chuckled numbly. _Christ, what a shithole. Free’s free though._

He trudged up the walkway.

From the topmost window in the tower, a prim, pale little face peered down at him. With a huff and a whirl of dust, the apparition disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This man. This trash man. I love him. Enjoy!

The rest of the night was a blur for Beej (the used crack pipe sitting next to him in the morning was a fine tip as to why), but he liked it that way. What he _didn’t_ like was the seemingly deafening, nonstop knocking on the front door. He slowly pealed his aching head up off his makeshift-pillow backpack and grappled with the zipper on his sleeping bag.

_I mean, fuck_ _—I owe people shit but they don’t find ya this fast._

He yanked the door open to a picture-perfect couple of narcs if ever he saw some, just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence coming from the man’s lips. “—usually answers by now, do you think she—” The conversation came to a halt as the door swung inward. Beej didn’t even bother speaking, he just raised an eyebrow.

The blonde woman shrieked at his appearance and they both jumped back a foot. She not-so-quietly whispered in the man’s ear, “Jesus, Adam, it’s a squatter, _call the police_.”

Beej’s muddled brain struggled to parse out what the couple was saying before he glanced down at himself. He knew he hadn’t shaved or showered in a few days, he could feel a dull sting from the cracks in his lips, and his clothes weren’t exactly fresh…

_Okay, so I don’t look great. But where the fuck do they get off?_

His eyes shot back up to the couple, “And just _what_ do you fuckers want? Say it or get off my porch.”

The brunette man in front of him gulped and chuckled nervously, offering a hand to shake. “My name’s Adam and this is my wife Barbara,” at this the woman smiled vaguely, “and we thought there’d be someone else here, sorry. Your porch, you say?”

He looked down at the proffered hand and back to the glasses of the nerd in front of him. He didn’t shake. “Yeah, _my_ porch. House’s mine. Just moved in. Who the hell did you expect to open the door? This place is fuckin’ empty.”

The pair looked at each other conspiratorially and zipped their metaphorical lip. The woman (“Barbara” apparently) chimed in with a, “Right, of course, which is why we wanted to check on it. No one’s supposed to be here soooo… Seemed odd!” She smiled but her eyes screamed judgement.

The gleam of a glass pan in her hands caught his eye and he snatched it from her. “Casserole? Lame, but appreciate the food. Later,” and with that, the door slammed shut.

Instead of being offended, the couple stepped further back and their eyes frantically searched the windows for a sight of their friend.

* * *

BJ rifled through old squeaky drawers in the kitchen, on the hunt for some silverware before he finally found a spoon with a rusty handle. He turned on the sink and the spicket took a second to spit out grey gunk before the water started flowing. As it struggled, he bent down and plugged in the antique fridge next to the counter. The place had just enough to keep him covered. He rinsed off the spoon and dug into the steaming casserole before setting off on another hunt, this time through the cabinets for a cup.

That was when he noticed things started to change. Floor tiles underneath him seemed to ripple and he couldn’t stand up straight. The air in the room turned to fog, like he couldn’t get anything fresh to his lungs, and the temperature dropped enough where he could see what little breath he could force out.

One last coherent remark sounded through his head before his knees hit the ground. _Haven’t felt this shit since I last did ‘shrooms. But I’ve been outta that shit, haven’t I….?”_

Suddenly, like a snap, the room reverted to normal and his stomach stopped churning as he felt gravity on him once again. “The fuck…?” He wondered aloud.

The windows slowly tinted themselves until a great portion of light was snuffed from the room. A disconcerting, but distinctly feminine voice behind him echoed in his ears.

“Speak your name, home invader. I would like to hear it before you _die_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Adam, all he ever did was be nice. Comment are loved <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so quick headcannon: y’know how Keetlejuice came complete with SnakeBeej? SpookyLyds version of that is SpiderLyds. Like obviously she can be other things but... C’mon, SpiderLyds! Buncha' different forms! *jazz hands*

“Speak your name, home invader. I would like to hear it before you _die_.”

Beej spun around quickly, landing flat on his ass before scrambling backwards across the floor. Although the light in the room was dim, the features of the figure before him were clear, bathed in their own red glow. A tall, slim woman in a grey, corseted dress moved closer to him, suspended in midair by eight spindly, horrifying spider legs bursting from her back. Loose strands of hair blew back in a phantom breeze and her grinning mouth boasted rows of pointed teeth.

Beej’s stared at her blankly for a beat, then turned his head turned towards the living room and muttered, “What the fuck did they cut that crack with...??”

The poltergeist was clearly enraged at his distraction, “You speak of cuts, drifter? I will happily oblige—” With a lunge forward, one of her spider legs turned razor sharp and cut a deep gash across the kitchen floor, grazing her target as he threw himself to the side.

“Alright, alright! Calm down babe! You’re a uh...ghost? Demonic squatter? What’re we lookin’ at here?”

The apparition’s expression turned shocked, then angry. “You call me a babe? I assure you I am no innocent child, and this is no home of _yours_ ,” she spat with rage, “You are not welcome here, repulsive vagrant.”

The slovenly ‘vagrant’ in question stood up and brushed himself off, giving the ghostly figure in front of him a once-over. Somehow, he seemed completely unfazed and incredibly curious.

“Nah, my parents just died, left the house ta me,” he offered as an uninterested explanation. What he _was_ interested in was the hourglass figure of the pale poltergeist. “Goddamn, baby, just look ‘atcha. Those tall, high-heel boots? Walk all over me sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. And that accent? What is that, like Shakespeare british or...?”

She stared at him with wide, unbelieving eyes that then narrowed to slits. “You think...my vernacular— I was born in the reign of Queen Victoria, not of Elizabeth, you absolute clod!” Her monstrous form skittered closer, attempting—and failing—to frighten him.

On the contrary, he began using the newly vacated space to circle her slowly. She was starting to feel like she was the prey here. Well, that just wouldn’t do, now wou—She was startled out of her thoughts when the human let out a loud, low, long wolf whistle as he rounded her form.

That’s it, she was going to bio-exercise his ass _straight to hell_. “How dare you stare so openly at my bustle, disgusting human!”

Beej merely cocked his head, “Bustle? Is that what they called it back then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they meet! Please leave comments and kudos, I love 'em so much <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to write this, not gonna lie. Drop suggestions below if you want!


End file.
